Only Shepard
by Simplysheree
Summary: Lessa Shepard came through hell to get to Palaven and, funnily enough, the military training most people said she needed before the attack on the Citadel. The reapers are still out there and if she is to be any use at all she has to learn everything she can. There is no room for Lessa anymore; only Shepard. M rating from chapter 1 for violence, language & sexual scenes.
1. Three ass kickings a day

**This story is a link between 'Lean on me' and 'Stand by me' that covers Shepard's training and the changes that occur in her relationship before the destruction of the original Normandy. **

**Disclaimer; I don't own anything but the storyline of this _particular_ fic, the progression of the other installments in the series loosely follow the original story of the Mass effect story.**

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Every time she limped from the medical bay to her cot Lessa had to remind herself that what didn't kill you, supposedly, made you stronger. Of course, as the clicks in her knees and wrists became frequent and audible, it was hard to believe; getting three ass kickings a day from Turians ranging anywhere between five and half and seven foot of solid, plate covered muscle was not fun. Not even a little. God would have to forgive her for the malice but what she _really_ wanted was to hurt one of them; not seriously, just enough that some of them would take her seriously for ten seconds a day. She'd given up on the idea of winning fights because, as the pretty and _very_ interested Asari nurse told her; Turians were _the_ hand to hand combat experts. They had the build, the agility and the strength for it, the most she could hope to do was draw, _bullshit, _she rolled her neck and grimaced as a wave of cracks rippled down her spine, _I nearly drowned Saren on Virmire, I can take one of these fuckers..._ or she should be able to. But every time she got in that ring, with all those faces staring at her, whatever had possessed her back then faded away and left her frozen in the cold reality of violence. Or, more honestly, in the reality that she didn't _like_ violence. _Fucking Udina, fucking Sparatus; I'm going to put thumb-tacks on both their chairs when this is over, _her latest opponent wasn't all that tall but he was broad and had roughly the same expression in his eyes as the hammerhead shark she'd seen eating a baby seal on the discovery channel. She understood how that baby seal had felt; of course the women were worse. They didn't back up when you hit the ground; the males were so damn big that they _had _to: they knew they could kill her if they didn't watch their step. The females were just small enough to not have that problem and just tough enough to make her bleed.

She'd taken to fighting the bigger men in the company. He moved like lighting but his arms were shorter than she'd expected so the first few hits were in no danger of landing. She was taking more care to dodge these days; partly because she didn't like pain but mostly because the last time she'd had a video call with Garrus it had taken her an hour and a half to convince him not to march into the base and start shooting kneecaps. He seemed to forget she was an actual soldier now, _sweet really, _she ducked under a swing and landed a hook into her opponents jaw; he barely even staggered, _but pointless,_ the foot that landed in her gut was half-hearted and she could see that he felt guilty but it still burned like hellfire, _I can fight Geth, I can kill Krogan so why can't I hurt this guy?_ It was a question she mulled over as she lay on the ground spitting blood. Maybe it was because he back off when she hit the ground, or because he had kind eyes, or because he wasn't the enemy. Hitting them felt like a betrayal... not that she'd have done much damage if she really tried.

"You done?" The female referee, one of the few that talked to her like an adult, crouched down and gave her a gentle, pitying look,

"No." She ground out and staggered to her feet, "Not even remotely." Garrus was coming in a week and, by God, she wanted to at least bruise somebody before he got here, _looks like it'll have to be you friend, sorry, _she slid under his swing and brought her forehead down on his lower jaw, gratified by the slight grunt of pain, the minute stagger. She got in two punches to the abdomen despite the fact Garrus had told her not to; too much plating on their part, too little strength on hers, and a kick to his knee before a backhand slap came from nowhere and sent her reeling into a metal crate.

When she opened her eyes most of the people were gone and her opponent, bless him, was sitting next to her with worried eyes,

"You ok Shepard?" He tilted his head to the side,

"Yeah..." She managed a laugh but winced; it sounded like someone was grinding glass, "Couldn't hurt me if you tried." He snorted and shrugged,

"Well you're, uh, what do the humans say? Ballsy?" She nodded, "Yeah, I'll give you that but..." he seemed to be trying hard not to offend her, "you do know you're too little for this, right?"

"Nope." She struggled onto her hands and knees, "I nearly killed Saren on Virmire," _with my bare hands, _"I can fight you."

"On Virmire you were wearing full armour." He said it quietly,

"Look, man, why do you _care?_" Hot, reassuring anger, _aah __**now**__ I could win, _the kind she could never find when someone stared across the ring at her, "Hm?" He shrugged and stood,

"I don't want to be the one to kill you and if you keep going this way _someone_ will... they wont mean to but it'll happen." He extended a hand to her which, despite herself, she took,

"Oh ye of little faith." She found her self laughing and marvelling at how, even though he was one of the shorter ones, she still had to look up at him, "You forget; I'm Commander _fucking_ Shepard."

"They assigned you a rank, huh?" He steadied her when she found her left leg had, for lack of a better phrase, gone to sleep without the rest of her,

"Yeah," she hissed and sat on the crate he'd bounced her off of earlier, "the, now, Major Alenko vouched for my leadership skills and, Anderson says as long as the trainers here confirm his observations the Alliance will slip me right in there...under the Majors tutelage, of course."

"Of course." He muttered, sounding thoroughly amused, "Well you don't lack leadership skills-"

"Just height and hardiness." She smiled; this was what she had expected here, camaraderie and, at the very least, an attempt at understanding. Not the outright disbelief and contempt she'd been greeted with so far. His laugh was loud and rich; it reminded her of Garrus, making her feel a little sad, a little lost. "So what's your name, anyway?"

"It's, uh, Artom." He extended an unsure hand; attempting the human greeting,

"Nice to meet you," his hand could have swallowed both of hers, she'd rarely felt so inadequate and, for a second, she wondered how she would have felt if she'd come up against Garrus, "most people used to call me Lessa but you can stick to Shepard if you prefer."

"Lessa..." He mulled it over, "that's a strange name, right? Even for a human?"

"Not so strange where I come from but, sure, I guess." her muscles were relaxing slowly, "Short for Amelessia." His brow plates raised far enough to make her laugh, "Means 'flower of Eden'," she shook her head, "I wish they'd just called me Gus; that'd be easier in this line of work."

"Sure, sure." He looked around and stood quickly, "Well... Lessa, I'll try not to kick your ass quite so hard next time," he smiled, mandibles flaring wide enough to let her know he was teasing, not insulting, her, "I might even see you around." _Yeah, maybe..._ She'd thought Garrus was one of a kind in all respects but, if nothing else, some of his countrymen had a sense of humour like his, _and right now, I'll take what I can get._ It wasn't friendship, or even acceptance but... humour, well that was a start, surely?

The one benefit of being the only human here was that she got her own room; they seemed to realise that this place would scare the shit out of her to start with and, as such, provide a bed for her to hide under, privately, in her down time. _So nice of them,_ she watched the holoscreen intently, eyes flicking to the clock; she and Garrus had started off by video calling once a week, then twice, then every other day. Now they spoke everyday at least once, seven p.m local time... usually twice. Usually for hours. So far she'd resisted the urge to flirt via the intranet; too risky, _too tacky, _she'd thought though, lately, he'd been starting it so when she caved in, _yes when, _it really wouldn't be her fault. Well not all her fault anyway; the call came through at one minute past when she had a mouth full of dinner and no hands free, _ I swear he does this on purpose, _it took roughly two seconds for the amusement to spread across his face,

"You know you're not supposed to eat outside the mess hall, right?"

"You gonna tell?" She managed to shoot back through a mouthful,

"Never," he laughed and sighed,

"Still at work?"

"Yeah," he leaned back and shrugged, "lots of paperwork but no actual incidents so it's just me and Tara but she went to grab food so..." he let the word drag out like a fingertip in her skin, "I thought I'd call you while we can have some time alone," he said it so innocently, as if he didn't call at this time every day, as if every conversation for the past week hadn't become slowly more loaded until she spent half the time squirming and swallowing and trying to ignore the feelings in the pit of her belly.

"Oh?" She managed to get it out without too much of a squeak, she thought, but a smug grin spread across his face,

"Mm, I miss being alone with you." He leaned forward, "There's so little _privacy_ on the intranet." And there it was; her heart was in her throat which, for its part, seemed to be shaking and at the very pit of her stomach there was a heavy, hot feeling she found it hard to ignore,

"I wasn't aware that we _needed_ privacy?" She meant to burst the bubble of arrogance he was floating in, instead she inflated it a little; his eyes flashed with amusement, his mandibles flicking a little,

"Well, I suppose not... afterall I have, what, three more shifts at work, a few days and then I'll be on my way to you anyway." He leaned back, as if waiting for her to make her move and that was when she realised that she loved him; she loved the smug smile he gave her when he knew she was bluffing, his _mind_ turned her on. The way they could spend days dancing around each other, all the time knowing what the other was doing. Not that this lessened the effects,

"You're an asshole." She laughed and shook her head,

"Yeah?" he tilted his head back, "What're you going to do about it, hmm?"

"Get you back." She laughed, "I'm gonna give you a shock."

"Oh, well I-" his face changed suddenly and he leaned out of view, in the distance she heard him say, "Thanks, Tara... nah, just some paperwork... yeah, no you go. No I don't mind, you take the morning shift, I can work through..."

After some time he leaned back and winked at her, taking a long sip of a steaming cup of... something, _what do Turians even drink?_ Suddenly she felt cheated, jealous even; how did she not know such simple information and yet this woman could be trusted to go out to buy him food and drink without supervision. _And now I'm officially insane..._ "So." he raised his brow plates, "You really think there's anything you can say that'll shock me?" _How about 'I love you'?_ But a knocking silenced them both, "Was that your door?" He tilted his head to the side,

"I don't think so." She frowned; he laughed,

"Well it's not mine!"

"Uhh- come in?" She gave him a confused look and turned to the door, feeling her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline when the doors slid open and Artom waved awkwardly,

"Hey."

"Hi..." Garrus inclined his head as if he could somehow see around the corner of the holoscreen, "can I help you?"

"Hello!" Garrus called with a laugh, Artom double took, snorting when she pointed to the screen,

"Uh, well I noticed you weren't in the mess and I wanted to see if you were alright." He nodded but didn't elaborate or make to leave,"But if you're busy..." _He wants me to invite him in,_ she found herself staring, mouth open just a little, in disbelief and, when she realised how rude and strange that must seem to him, quickly rallied,

"Would you like to meet Garrus?" It was the first thing that came to mind, "He was on the Normandy with me."

"Yeah, ok." He stepped in, the doors sliding shut behind him and, for all that he was short, the space felt smaller. She turned the screen,

"Garrus this is..." _shit, what's his name?_ "Artom," when he didn't correct her she could have sighed with relief, "we were sparring today."

"Did he do that to your face then?" His usually laughter filled voice was like lead, she touched the bruising on her cheek,

"Ah no, not really, I hit a crate on the way down."

"Right." _Oh God this is not good,_ Artom gave the most awkward smile she'd ever seen come from a Turian, Garrus' face had set like stone, _am I missing something?_

"Do you two know each other already...?" She asked hopefully; news of some buried dislike would have been a lifeline,

"No." Artom said simply, "Sorry but, I should go." He shook her hand and left before Lessa could say another word. The doors slid closed and she laughed, shaking her head,

"Weird guy." Garrus didn't answer so, for a reason she couldn't place, she rattled on, "Still he's the only person here who's been _remotely _friendly since I got here so I really shouldn't complain."

"I suppose not." He said quietly and then, as if shaking something off, looked at her and laughed, "Don't you have an exercise tomorrow?"

"Yup..." she sighed, "Team work with a bunch of belligerent squaddies."

"Then I better let you get to sleep." He smiled, "I'll see you soon." He reach forward, as if to terminate the call,

"Garrus, wait." She took a deep breath, "I was going to shock you."

"Yes?" He said it slowly, as if torn between excitement and anxiety.

"I-" she teetered on the edge, a fraction of a second, a breath of fear away from backing out, "I love you."

That did shock him; his mandibles flared wide and then, almost without pause, he grinned,

"I love you too, Lessa." With a small smile she cut off the call and slid into bed, body still humming with adrenaline and lay awake for hours. This was the start of something good; she could feel it. This was the most happiness she had felt since Eden Prime, maybe more than she'd ever felt, _what do you think, Shan? Is he good?_ She could almost hear her best friends voice,

'_he's ugly as shit but he'll do.'_ Shannon had never seen the beauty in other races; the bravery, intelligence and kindness, yes, but beauty? No. _'if you like him, short-arse, then so do I.'_. Eleven p.m came quickly; she sat up and typed his number into her omni-tool,

"Hello?" He picked up on the third ring, "Lessa, is everything ok?"

"Yes..." She smiled and lay back down, "I just wanted to talk to you." Her voice sounded thick and throaty even to her, _what does it sound like to you?_

"Oh?" He seemed to pick up on her mood before she did; his own voice dropped a little,

"Yup." She ran her fingers across the waistband of her cotton trousers,

"Anything _in particular_ you wanted to discuss?" The smile came through in his voice, "The laws regarding imported pets on the Citadel, perhaps?" He wanted her to start this, _fine... I blame you,_

"How about... what I'm wearing?" She quipped, "Or, rather, what I'm not."

"I... see." He sounded disbelieving, she could almost see him looking over his shoulder, "Or the fact that you've shocked me twice tonight?"

"Which would _you_ rather discuss?" _Balls in your court, Officer._ He let out a shaky breath and a nervous laugh,

"That is _not_ a fair question."

"No?"

"No." He said firmly, "Mainly because you already know the answer." She smiled and slipped her hand under the waistband,

"Well I'm not wearing armour." She said, grinning when he barked out a laugh, "or underwear." She lied, running her tongue across her teeth when that laugh turned into a strangled cough,

"Ah... right...is- uh... _Shit_ Shepard," he laughed, "I have no fucking idea what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything." She laughed, "Just think about that and the fact that I'll be thinking about. In my private room." And then hung up, heart hammering a rhythm on her ribcage.


	2. (Not) Cut out for this?

Lessa had only a few minutes to check her messages and leave one of her own for Garrus in the morning; the team work exercise, she found, was to be held in a remote, jungle-like area of Palaven and she would be provided with a suit to wear for the majority of the exercise to avoid radiation sickness. She would be away for five days. A smile ghosted across her face as she read Garrus' email,

"_I've been awake since you called... for the record, you're completely heartless, I'm going to be useless at work tonight and I blame you._

_But I still Love you. X"_

He'd picked up the human communication norms so quickly; she grinned and sent her love back before pounding out the door and down the hall, nearly running up the back of a fellow victim of the 'team-building holiday' they were about to go on. Artom leaned out of the line slightly and nodded to her, _well shit it's nice to have one friendly face, _she flicked him a quick smile as their commanding officer strode into the room. They were to be split into seven small groups of five, each with an appointed leader, their goal was survival; 'captured' soldiers would be removed back to the base. The exercise would last three days with a day on either side for orientation and recovery, respectively, the team with the most remaining members after three days would win. Simple.

Apart from the fact that she was in charge of one of the groups, _they're never going to listen to me, shit! _The temptation to let the gobbiest of her 'soldiers' take over was strong but, from nowhere, a smaller, harder part of her spoke up. She wanted that rank: 'Commander', she wanted her place in the Alliance and, more than that, this tiny part of her demanded respect, _I helped save the Galaxy Goddamnit! _They would fall into line or she would put them there. Artom was placed with her, _lets hope I can count on you, buddy, _

"You ready?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck,

"I guess, you?" She returned absent-mindedly; too busy keeping an eye on who else they had. A mountain of a male she'd never met called Holm, a smaller male whos name she missed and a stiff necked female called Sephe,_ could be worse... she's a bit of a bitch but she's capable and reasonable,_ it all depended on whether Holm would toe the line, "Do you know him?" She interrupted Artom with an apologetic smile,

"Uh, yeah, he's... a bit of a dick but, don't worry, I'll take care of him for you-" he began with a friendly smile,

"No." Lessa tried to ignore the guilt at his hurt expression, "Thanks but... no. I need to do that for myself; it's time I started confronting people that give me shit." She shrugged, "Otherwise I wont be all that great a Commander, huh?" He nodded as if to say, 'that's true', and eyed the others quietly. For better or worse he had designated himself her second in command, of sorts. The others, however, seemed unconvinced and, not for the first time, she wished that Garrus was here to back her up. Or that Kaidans hoarse, soothing voice would break the silence. She would even have taken Liara's unsure, nervous titter to break the ice but, of course, nothing came. She was on her own here. She looked at the one member she knew nothing about,

"What's your name?" Unsure about what approach to take she opted for polite, _can't go far wrong with that_, but he seemed to bristle a little, staring at her as if she were something unpleasent, an intrusion,

"Gadon." Artom said quietly, "His name is Gadon." Gadons eyes slid from her to Artom and, after some time, he seemed to come to a conclusion and snorted. They were silent in the shuttle; a few teams whispered quietly during the journey but most, she noticed, sat and wordlessly stared at the walls. _Too focused or protecting a plan?_ She swallowed the feeling that everyone here knew something she didn't, had seen something in the brief she'd overlooked. Suddenly there was this fear that she wasn't good enough; all that was on the line here was her team-mates pride... and yet she couldn't find the certainty that she could do them justice. "_Do your best," _her father had said before a school relay race, "_you have to; to shame oneself is no sin but you should never shame your team-mates and, if you do your best then you're halfway there."_

"_What about the other half?"_ She had asked him quietly;

"_The other half?Well that's a mixture of practice, luck and determination."_

Practice, luck, determination.

She'd been practising, sure enough, and was determined... but then again everyone here fell into that category. So what was left? _Luck, _she let her eyes roll to the ceiling of the shuttle and snorted, _Well, Lady luck, don't fail me now. Please? _One by one, the teams they had been sharing the shuttle with were dropped off and, just as she was convinced they were going to be the last out, the voice that had been sending them all on their way barked,

"Shepard, this is you."

The air was warm, stuffy and heavy with moisture, _Oh I can tell I'm going to love it here, _already a bead of sweat was slipping down the back of her neck. The forest was dense and dim, seeming to hum with life. As the sound of the shuttles engines dulled she felt a creeping claustrophobia descend; these people were counting on her now, in this place that she had no knowledge of. The suits they had been given were lightweight; with hardened, felixible materials designed to fend of knives and claws more than bullets,

"What's the climate like here?" She asked no-one in particular while trying to ignore the fact that the air here made her skin burn, _looks like I'll need that suit for sure, _

"Get's cold at night." Sephe spoke up first, "Really cold." _Of course it does, _

"Fantastic, we'll need a fire then." She sighed and swatted a flying insect of some kind as it hummed near her ear. They hadn't made it easy for them; no maps, no tents, just bedrolls, water and enough food to keep them going for three days, _barely. _The crack that rang out seemed to come from everywhere; the trees whispered as she clenched her fists and the realisation that crept through her mind to whisper snidely in her ear said that she might not be cut out for this. She felt like prey.

"Artom?"

"What?" He spoke quietly enough that she knew he was as wary as she,

"In your opinion..." She lowered her voice as another crack rang out, "how likely is it that some groups have opted to actively hunt and, if so, what proportion."

"I'd say it's a certainty... and probably most of them." _Well that's... a relief, actually. _He shuffled slightly; from the corner of her eye she saw that he had turned to face in a different direction. At a forty-five degree angle; their fields of vision would overlap but only a little, _clever man,_

"Is that _not_ our plan?" Sephe seemed shocked,

"No." She took a deep breath, eyes focused on a shadowed area among the trees, "The objective is to avoid capture, not take prisoners." She mulled that over and tapped Artoms shoulder before turning to the others and motioning for them to follow her. Walking parallel to it, she kept the shadow in view as best she could. A third snapping sound accompanied the shadows shift, Artom drew in a low breath; he had seen it too. "On three, run North-East," she whispered to them, "we have company. Quick and quiet as you can for one minute, then double back." Then, quickly, she added, "Stick together."

They followed her first order without complaint; the looming shame of being one of the first captured dissuaded any argument. She was unused to being the quietest in any group but, while she was hardly a ghost, the others were heavier, bulkier and, as such, where she slipped through or under, they crashed. Crunched, crushed. But they succeeded in dropping their new fans quickly, _heart wasn't in it, _it had been opportunism, not planning. Nonetheless she motioned for them to stop before they made it back to their original drop zone,

"This way." She slid through some thick bushes and listened carefully, "Sephe, you have good ears, do you hear that?" _Come on, lets be friends; we can do... well whatever you do for fun. Castrate men like Holm, perhaps? _She seemed the type but Lessa found she had begun to like it. Admire it even. Sephe tilted her head,

"Sounds like a waterfall."

"Thought so... slightly to the west, I'd say?" She raised her brows,

"I'd say so." Sephe was looking at her with guarded eyes,

"Good, lets go." She hissed,

"_Commander_," Gadons contempt ridden voice floated to her, "You're aware that Turians don't do well with water, yes?"

"Yes." She turned on her heel and fough the urge to look away, _he wants a fight we'll... he's not getting it,_ "That's _why_ we're heading there. It's not the first place they'd assume anyone will go nor a likely choice for sleeping arrangement. Peace. And. Quiet." She enunciated carefully, "Just what we need to make a plan." Without further discussion she ploughed onward; relying on their disorientation to make them all follow, for now; once they settled in and started to catch their breath she'd have to barter. Gadon might decide to abandon group just to spite her; he seemed the type. It was Holm who was really unnerving her, though; not a peep out of him yet and, for all his size, he moved like a mountain lion.

"So we're not hunting?" Artom asked softly,

"No, we're-"

"Hiding." A deep voice cut in, _hello Holm, _

"Yes." She said with, what she hoped, was a sunny smile, "Because the objective is team survival _not_ prisoner capture. The best way to live through a fight is to _not_ be in it. Let the others beat each other down."

"That's hardly honorable." He said but, somehow, she thought there might be a smile in his voice,

"No, it's not, but neither is being chased down and hog tied and this is more comfortable." She stopped and looked over her shoulder, "You have a problem with the plan, I take it, Holm?"

"Actually I think it's clever." He snorted and shook his head though whether it was because he had not thought her clever or because clever was not an objectively good thing, she couldn't tell. Unsure how to react she simply shrugged,

"I thought so."

The river bank, however, was far from suitable for camping on. More like a marsh than anything remotely comfortable. She sighed and looked around; the waterfall was small and hardly vicious. There could have been something behind it but the liklihood of getting any of them through that was slim. _Slim? Idiot you have once chance at getting them through there and that is no chance. _They retreated until they had their backs to a tall boulder and bushes in front of them on dry ground. As the hours passed in silence she began to wonder if this was the best idea; dragging them out of the action to sit quietly and stew in resentment, _my objective is to keep them safe, not happy. They don't have to like me, just follow me. _But would they follow her if they didn't like her? She wasn't exactly drowning in their respect, afterall. Artom gave her a strange look,

"What did you do before you were on the Normandy, if you weren't a soldier?"

"I-" She stopped, mouth half open, ears ringing with the sound of her and Shannons work shop, "I was an engineer on Eden Prime. My friend built weapon prototypes for the Alliance, I helped him build and maintain them."

"So you never fought before?" Sephe leaned forward, "Before the Normandy?"

"I never fought a real battle until the Citadel," She ballooned her cheeks and let the air slip from her mouth, shook her head, "On Eden Prime I killed some of the husks the Geth helped Saren create but... I came up against _him._ That wasn't a fight, it was nearly a murder."

"What was he like?" Artom asked with a strange gleam in his eyes,

"Arrogant." She shrugged, "Clever, I guess." She didn't like the tone of the question or the searching look in his eyes; she swallowed a lump of fear and anger. _Don't you dare idolise him, stupid boy,_ "He wasn't what anyone would want to become." The light flickered and died in his eyes, he seemed almost contrite as he looked away.

"My father said he was the model of a good soldier." Gadon raised his chin with a smug smile,

"Yeah well he never put his boot on the back of your dads head while it was underwater." She had meant to snap, to snarl and posture like a real Turian. To put him in his place but, instead, the voice that came out was cold and weary... more effective too; rather than making an argument she had made him sound like an idiot. _Not making friends, Lessa,_ the ghost of Garrus whispered in her ear but, to her surprise, that hard little voice that she'd only noticed recently was back. _Fuck him,_ it whispered, _he's a fool anyway. Don't need him to love you, like you even. All he needs to do it sit down, shut up and say 'Yes ma'am' at the right times._

This little voice, it was not really her... but she was beginning to see it's value. She met his eyes and shrugged,

"Got to be realistic about these things, eh buddy?"


	3. Her people

**Thank you so much to everyone who's come over from 'Lean on me' and welcome to everyone who's started here! Your support means the world to me! **

**On a side note; if any of you lovely people want to find me on tumblr you can get me at writedemon . tumblr **

* * *

Turians were not made to wait.

Not too long ago she would have said this about humans but, as time passed, she became aware that such a title didn't fit them. The hours could blur for her; she could sit back and let the passage of time sweep her away. Her team mates found it more difficult. They sighed and shifted, they shrugged and flexed like creatures that had never been prey; they didn't know how to stay so still that even your breath became sluggish. They had no idea of how to slip into a waking sleep and hover, both hyper aware and semi conscious, between dreams and the world while they waited. They craved action and aggression... and so she roused herself,

"I don't think it'd be clever to go looking for anyone so soon," she found she was whispering; twilight was creeping up on them, bringing with it an overbearing, and irrational, sense of malevolence. As if the forest around them were in cahoots with their encroaching enemies, "we'll get moving at dawn and sweep the area around us. Don't want anyone sneaking up on us." She swallowed, "If you want to light a fire then get to it; I want it out before full dark." This was not a request, they knew, but still they grumbled and rolled their eyes, mandibles clamping in displeasure,

"We're not all hot-blooded," Gadon muttered, shifting his thick shoulders, "We'll get cold quickly."

"Then huddle together," she hissed, catching his gaze and holding it steadily, "we are not coming last in this competition because you don't like the cold, Gadon." Reaching into her pack, she pulled out the protective suit they had provided her with and climbed into it, feeling the itching burn subside almost immediately after she sealed herself in, "I'll sleep in the suit, take my sleeping bag for extra heat and huddle up." Her temper had dropped with the sun, slowly but steadily, until she had to force civility into every word and phrase she uttered; they just couldn't wait.

Lessa had never longed for _human_ company so specifically; for the company of soft, squishy, warm human beings who found it easier to lie low in the shadows while danger passed by. For who, mostly, the concept of honour was useful _only_ in conjunction with continued existence. The ideal of a glorious, honourable death was one she couldn't settle with, _death is not glorious, defeat is not honourable and I am not like these people._ But they were _her_ people, for now, so she modulated her tone and tried to stay civil, if not amicable, as they grated insistently on her last nerve,

"Keep your talons to yourself, Sephe." Holm chuckled, "Now's not the time," _too loud! Why are they so loud?,_

"What?!" She spat, "I'm not touching you, sludge brains."

"Ah, shit... sorry." Artom muttered sheepishly, laughing as they kicked him from their impromptu pile, he dropped down beside her, "This isn't really what we're used to doing," he lowered his voice when she pursed her lips, "you'll have to be patient with them... they think we should have run in, guns blazing, as you humans say."

"I understand." She nodded wearily,

"You're the only one here who's actually been in these kind of situations." He gave her an honest, enquiring look. It made her squirm,

"I forgot how young you all are." She said quietly, sitting up and pressing her visor to the padded knees of the suit. Artom bristled,

"Not that young!" He was so much the outraged youth that the bark of laughter escaped before she could catch it. His offended frown made her bit her lip and shake her head apologetically,

"You're doing mandatory training," she pursed her lips, "you've only come of age."

"How-"

"Garrus told me how the system works," she gave him as honest a smile as she could manage, "I'm... sorry. I forgot that you're all here to learn, just like me." His face was inscrutable, mandibles twitching in an expression she would have called petulant on a human face.

"Well I suppose we can't _all_ have ex-military, c-sec friends."

"I suppose not." She snorted and looked at the, now settled, shapes of their squad mates, "Get back over there before you get too cold... I'm going to stick here." He frowned, tilting his head to the side, "I don't sleep so well these days." She said by way of answering an unspoken question.

When they fell silent, at last, she let her shoulders slump and began battling the rising memories; the cave, that maintenance worker, _sorry Bernard,_ she curled in on herself, the utter confidence in Sarens eyes. How could she relay that to the council; the complete certainty that the reapers _were _coming. They smiled and nodded and made all the right sounds but, fundamentally, they didn't give a fuck. The hours slipped through her fingers like so much sand as she shifted between a light doze and heavy wakefulness until she was left blinking in the spreading sunlight.

This was the time to move; she shook Artom awake first, hissing quickly,

"Up, time to move," before moving on to the others, dragging each from their slumber roughly and without ceremony. The air felt heavy; she pushed her bag under some tall foliage, motioning for them to do the same, "if it gets messy run and meet back here when the dangers past, yes?" They looked at her blearily, _they're practically children, _she swallowed her disbelief; how could such normal, soft beings turn into the cookie cutter, regulation tough guys that the Turian military churned out so quickly? "Yes?" She pushed for recognition. They all nodded. Holm straightened and narrowed his eyes, mandibles flexing,

"Did you hear that?" He didn't wait for an answer, crashing off with what she recognised as a smile plastered to his face. _Too eager, too rash, _he would be dead by now, she realised, if this were a real war. She motioned to Gadon and Artom to cut him off, throwing herself in his path when he turned,

"Do you want to get caught?" She spat, suddenly aware of the silence, feeling a creeping fear on the back of her neck, "How stupid can you get, Holm? Running off like a bull in a proverbial china shop," berating quietly, she was beginning to realise, took real skill,

"I heard someone," he barked back, "they've probably gotten away by now, though!" The disgust was plain and unvarnished,

"Or someone was trying to lure us out!" She threw her arms up,

"Which, thanks to you," Sephe interjected, shaking her head, "they've managed to do."

She tried to inject some optimism into the situation by happily believing that he realised his mistake just before someone gripped her shoulder and dragged her back across an outstretched leg. By the time she'd hit the ground that optimism was gone and the anger, so alien yet quickly becoming familiar, was back. She lashed out, catching the offending soldier under his knee, relishing the squawk of pain and surprise, _that's right fucker, I fight best at a disadvantage. _The perks of being short were also the realities of being a woman.

"Backs together, get one of them." She spat out as she scrambled to her feet, "_That_ is a fucking order." And they did exactly what she said; scattered by the panic of her sudden fall at first, they rallied and fought back to each other. Dipping and ducking and, on one occasion, headbutting until they were practically back to back. She hopped back towards them slowly, luring the short, stocky male that had surprised her with the promise of an easy capture. _Afterall I'm just one __**human**__ woman, two things you think you're better than all rolled into one, huh buddy?_ When one long arm snaked out to catch her she dropped and twisted to the side, pivoting on one foot before thrusting the other out at the same knee again. This time he crumpled, hitting the forest floor with a thump and a howl. Artom and Sephe were on him before she could stand, his companions seemed to have lost their nerve; only one intrepid ambusher remained. Mainly because Holm had him hemmed between a looming tree and the river.

"Let him go, Holm." She called, "Get back over here..." She sighed at his stroppy glare, "Safety in numbers." They pulled their prisoners electronic tracker off; he was, for all intents and purposes, out of the game. Sephe put in in one of her pockets and turned to Lessa with a slightly more respectful look in her eyes,

"What now, then?" She nodded to Holm when he sidled up, one eye still firmly on the quickly receding attacker with the air of a puma done out of a promising chase,

"We go hunting." She smiled, laughing as the vicious joy spread across the four alien faces in front of her.

Yes; these were her people now and, as they drew forward to hear her plan, she was beginning to love them, for all their strangeness.


	4. Life, above all

A single bead of sweat was working its way down the back of her neck, driving her mad in the process. Their fleeing friend had left quite a swathe of destruction in his wake; his bulky form had crushed the foliage that littered the floor and cracked the branches of encroaching bushes. It was like tracking a train, even for someone who, like her, lacked any real experience in the process. So they closed in on him, slowly and quietly as they could manage, and, in the distance, they began to hear cursing.

"-idiot!... got Tiran, fool..." the voices seemed to fade in and out as a fly buzzed its way around her head, _yes we got Tiran and, if you fools don't quieten down, we'll get you too,_ she waved it away and dropped to a crouch. An elegant hand touched her shoulder; Artom tilted his head to the side, inquisitively,

"Take Holm and go west," she said, eyes scanning the forest for movement, "circle around their position and wait until one wanders from the main group." He nodded and slipped away, surprisingly quietly. Turians, it seemed, were quick learners. "Sephe." She turned her head a little, "Go forward and find a good place to blend in... watch them and grab any that try to get away." The girl was like a shadow; now that she was picking up the habits of stealth she was getting harder to find. Yes, Lessa smiled, suppressing a kind of grim satisfaction, Turians were very quick studies.

Gadon was a presence of overwhelming contempt at her back; his attitude had begun to stink like a rotten wound and, not for the first time, she wondered if it was her sex or species that had him so rattled. She motioned eastwards and nodded him forward,

"Your eyes are sharper, take point but stay low and," she hesitated, on the verge of condescension, "well you know what to do."

"Stay quiet, don't fuck up." He muttered and pushed past her, moving with surprising speed in a low, crablike crouch.

The net closed on their suspicious but oblivious quarry smoothly and without incident. Lessa winced when she saw a flicker of Artom in the bushes, or saw a bush shudder under the assault of Holms hulking frame. Of Sephe she saw nothing; she might as well not have existed, _I see spectre training in the future, Sephe, I really do. _They were arguing; a group of eight, at least, _so they are teaming up. _She could see the appeal of large numbers, truly, but all that shit in the caves below Sharjila had made her crave solitude; if she hadn't been alone they would have found her instantly. The constant need to look to the behaviour of others... she shook her head, finally understanding people who said they preferred to work alone. She shifted closer to Gadon, so they crouched side by side, and was hit by the sudden smell of gun oil and leather. She swallowed, wishing Garrus were here or, more potently, wishing they were both back on the Normandy.

"-listening?" Gadon hissed, nudging her with a sharp elbow,

"No, I was thinking." She muttered, "Sorry."

"I said, that guy is breaking off, we should get him." She followed his line of sight and shook her head,

"He's too close to the others." She bit her lip, "We need to spook them."

"Spook them?" He hissed, irritation written clear on his face until, seeming to take an breath inside his own head, his mandibles flared, "That might work." Raising a, not inconsiderably sized, rock from the forest floor and hefted its weight in his hand, "So are we being clever or direct?"

Wasn't that just the question?

"We have them pretty much surrounded..." she voiced her thoughts as best she could in the stifling silence, "the one side we don't have covered is, I'm pretty sure going to hit the river at some point."

"Right." He grunted and, for a second, she was grateful to him; he had, somehow, actually started trying to have patience with her,

"I say we dive in." She nodded firmly then, on a whim, pressed her fingers lightly to his arm and turned to look him in the eye, "What do you think?"

"I think," he said with a surpised stare, looking at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, "you've got the right idea... ma'am." The last word was almost an afterthought but it made her smile. _Little steps, princess, _Shannons voice ghosted through her mind, _slow and steady wins the race, eh?_

"Thank you." She said, glowing with the victory; they crept forward together until, with a deliberate kind of sadism, Gadon brought his foot down hard on a branch. Its snap sounded like the crack of bones on stone and, without any idea why, she let out a low keening sound, shaking a bush next to her. Gadon started as if she'd lost her mind but, by God, it worked. They jumped and began to huddle a little,

"-spirits, what was that?" One muttered, head whipping from side to side. Gadon sniggered and kicked a rock, snapped another branch. She let out a low howl; movement in the distance suggested than Holm and Artom had heard her and, knowing which way they went, were wondering at what point she'd lost her mind. When Gadon burst through the bushes,however, quickly followed by her, their prey scattered like startled fish in the path of sharks. Sephe tore the electronic tag from one before he even saw her slender frame; Gadon brought a burly female down with sheer body weight and, much to her pride, Lessa didn't fall on her arse when sprinting down the hill.

"Not built for running like this." She hissed to herself, lunging under an outstretched arm, rolling as she hit the ground, ready for the attack. Artom got to him first, though, knocking him down with a toe-curlingly brutal shoulder barge, _easy big guy, he's not actually the enemy._

That night, for the first time since landing on Palaven, Lessa felt at home. These were her people, she had decided, as much as an alliance soldier would be. As much as any human could be. And for all their alien features they were becoming dear to her. She looked up, across the modest camp fire, at Holm who was making a good effort at entirely burying his face in his dinner. She snorted and rolled her eyes, catching Sephes gaze with a smile; they had a moment where all gaps were crossed and they understood one another. _Squaddies,_ Sephes eyes seemed to sigh, _no subtlety, no grace. _She, telepathically, retorted that men in general, with a few exceptions, fell under that category. Yes, they understood each other. Just for a second. Artom extinguished the fire as the sun dipped, without her prompting, and they scrambled back into their huddle with she clambered into her suit again. She was almost jealous of their situation; despite being quite grateful for her ability to regulate her own body temperature in cool weather she found, surprisingly, that she'd have traded it fro a few hours to get some contact. She missed cuddles. _I. am. Pathetic._ She suppressed a self pitying grumble; she missed Garrus, she missed physical contact, even the friendly kind. Not that getting laid would go wrong, she conceded this quietly in a secluded corner of her mind; in fact it'd be just peachy. But even a hug, a handshake, would be nice. All they had to do was make it to the extraction point at sun down the next day and, well, they at least had a _chance_ of winning. The walk would take at least half a day, if they were being careful, which they would.

The "forest" was really more of a jungle, she decided, and it looked it at night. Vines hung from the highest reached of trees so vast and old that it seemed plausible they could have always been there. That they always would be. She hoped they would; the idea that anything could come so close to permenance was a slight but aplpable relief. The awareness of her own temporary state had been steadily growing since Therum until, recently, it was a gnawing presence at the back of her mind. The need to do something important, something lasting, was over-riding. Much like the urge to visit her old minister on eden prime. Of course he was dead... She sighed and rolled onto her back and watched the endless skies, wondering if somewhere out there was, as the scientists suggested, another universe. A parallel place where another her was gong about a normal life with Shannon; the life that had, really, been stolen from them. She wondered if there was a universe where their engagement had worked, where her uterus had been susceptible to the kids he had been so desperate for. The stars winked at her, as if sniggering to themselves; she would never know.

"You ok?" Sephe was staring at her from the, mostly sleeping, pile of bodies,

"Yeah." She sighed, pursing her lips, "Just thinking about the past." Sephe said nothing; whether she didn't know what to say or didn't wish to intrude, Lessa couldn't have said but she was grateful nonetheless. She needed the peace; the turn life had taken was plesent in many ways but hardly expected. _Can I really be a Spectre? Am I capable? _The answer was stubbornly absent. She knew now that she was strong enough but strength didn't guarantee wisdom or morality or efficiency. "Saren, he was..." she said, "well he was a hero until Sovereign came along, wasn't he?" She turned her head to them; they were all awake now, staring at her with various expressions. Artom nodded,

"He was the best. Every military school held him up as the example of strength and honour." He said, "Though they cautioned that soldiers and police officers must follow more rules and obey orders than spectres, his military career was exemplary and they made sure we knew it." It was Holm who picked up on her tone,

"Why?"

"I was just wondering what made him the way he was." She said, "Wondering if it was the job or the situation or..." She shrugged, "I don't want to end up like him." They said nothing, there was nothing to be said, but Artom sat up on his elbows as the others rolled over and tried to sleep, looking at her steadily. His eyes were as unhelpful as the stars.

The sun rose as it had set; on her worried and watchful eyes. She had not slept and, despite her pride, she knew she was in no state to lead anyone. Holm rose first, eyes springing awake with the violence of someone who knows fear well. He woke like she did; with a sudden and jarring shudder, as if expecting a blow or knife cut.

"Holm," she said, her low tone still made him jump, "I want you to lead today." He frowned, mandibles twitching,

"Why?"

"I..." she sighed and rubbed her face, "I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't lead a drunk to a pub right now. I'm not fit." His face was blank as he mulled that information over, she could almost see him turning it this way and that.

"I'd be happy to." He said finally, "If you wish?"

"I do." She nodded and cleared her throat, watching the others come to life in their own ways before announcing Holms leadership and giving the reason. Artom nodded and, for a second, she almost saw pride, or happiness, in his face. He sidled up to her as they packed up their gear,

"You've done the right thing, you know." He said it with the air of someone sharing a secret, "My father always says that a good leader knows when to step aside."

"Well he's right." She said with a confidence she didn't feel, "The mission comes before pride."

With those words she educated herself; if her superiors thought less of her so be it, the people on her team mattered more. Life mattered above all.


	5. A visitor

**Hello and thank you to everyone who's reading! Welcome back to those who came over from Lean on me (the first in the series) and welcome to the family to those who're starting with this one! If you want some backstory on Lessa Sheoard and her pre Normandy life then check out the ongoing fic Stages which deals with her life through her relationship with her good friend Shannon! **

* * *

They lost Gadon on the way back; a stray competitor came from nowhere and snatched his tag before they even knew she was there.

"Probably opportunism," She said, trying to soothe Holms wounded ego, "I'm guessing she lost the rest of her group and just wanted a point in her favour." Gadon, however, was livid; with himself, with Holm, with his conqueror and, unsurprisingly, with her.

"I knew they never should have given you this command," he spat, reeling like a drunkard,

"Oh, of course, this is all _my _fault," she said, "nothing at all to do with the fact that you didn't listen to Holm when he told you to stay close and quiet."

"If you had done your job instead of palming off the responsibility on him then this might not have happened." She opened her mouth and then sighed, "You know what? You're right."

"And another-" he stopped and tilted his head to the side, "what?"

"You're right." She said again, "I made the decision to hand command over to Holm because I wasn't in a fit state to do it myself therefore... it's my responsibility." And it was, she conceded, in a way. Neither she or Holm had made him stray from the group or crash like the proverbial bull in a chine shop but it was his fault for not reigning him in and, thereby, hers for putting Holm in charge. _So this is the weight of Command, _she snorted as they trudged on, eyes flicking over the shadows, _explains why Kaidan's so serious all the time. _

"Everything ok, ma'am?" Sephe sidled up to her,

"Yes." She nodded, "Just thinking about my commander."

"On the Normandy?" Her eyes glittered, she leaned forward a little,

"Yes... I was just thinking that there are so many questions I have for him." She swallowed, "So much I want to ask and I only realised it when he's nowhere near me."

"You're doing fine, you know." Sephe said softly with what could have been a very small but kind smile,

"Am I?" Lessa asked, a sickly tension growing in her stomach; she nodded and sighed, pulling her pack further up her back. _He should have stopped for a break, by now, _she considered telling him so but clamped her mouth shut and tried to ignore the bead of sweat that was crawling down her spine. They had set off too late and now darkness was falling; get there early and hole up in a safe location until the deadline that had been the plan. But, clearly, that had not worked and despite needing to stay cheerful she could feel the creeping vulnerability of this situation working on her patience and mood. _Never again, _she flinched as a crack rang out to the left of her position, _I will always keep control when I get my command. I will always be fit._ She tried to convince herself that this was possible. She prayed for the strength to make it so.

"Holm." She whispered as she close the distance, "What's your plan for this?"

"What?" He frowned,

"The other teams will all be heading down here and the deadline is," she quickly checked her watch, "two hours away. That's a lot of time to be fighting for a win." He stopped and turned to her, stopping Artom in his tracks, lest they collide,

"What's your point?" He grunted,

"Look whatever you decide I will support it fully but..." she shot a glance at the others, "we do need a plan or we'll get decimated." _Just like Tiran's group,_ those words hung unspoken between them and he sighed, eyes flicking about the trees; she could almost see the wheels in his brain turning. Eventually he sighed,

"What do you suggest?" Well that was the question; what did _she_ suggest? Lessa looked around and thought about the vastness of the forest, the way the trees seemed determined to hide everything from them,

"It's hard to say what'll work, Holm." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "There are shadows everywhere... there could be enemies anywhere, hell they could be-" she let the last word drag out as her eyes rolled upwards, "How are you guys with climbing?"

"What? Why does that mat...matter." Holm grinned, "I see." She smiled at him and nodded, "By the spirits that's fucking _brilliant_." He said and motioned to the others, "When we the pickup location comes into view you're to find a tree with good coverage and climb it, is that clear?"

"What, why?" Artom frowned and looked at her for confirmation,

"Don't look at her like I'm nuts!" Holm snapped, "It was her idea."

"Ok." Artom turned to her, "Why?"

"Because Turians are the apex predator on this planet and apex predators don't often look up," she grunted and eyed the dangling vines, _could we climb them? Use them to get from tree to tree?_ She considered the prospect of Holm using such delicate greenery for support and snorted. The group was staring at her, "What? It's true, when was the last time you thought of looking above you for hunters during a survival exercise?" None of them answered, "Never, that's my guess, because you don't expect anything to be above you. It's psychological." She said, realising all the while that she might be decimating their moral or uprooting their self-image, _and that's why I heard Kaidan tell the junior officers that they were doing something "because he said so" so often; note, don't fuck with your soldiers psyche._ She smiled and patted Artoms shoulder, "You're bloody brilliant land tacticians, though, thats why going up is the best option." This seemed to placate them; they smiled awkwardly and shuffled from foot to foot. She waited for Holm to take charge. Around them the wildlife picked up again; various birds and mamals alien to her started caterwauling. She sighed,

"Lets move out, then."

They followed without question out of the clearing and, later, into the trees.

For such large individuals, they were remarkably good at hiding when they put their minds to it and, suddenly, she wondered what would happen if Turians took up attacking from above as practice. Not just hiding but actually hunting from an elevated position; the thought made her shiver and look around. Perhaps it was better for everyone else that the Galaxies military might attacked in very linear ways or they might all as well go into permenant hiding. They watched the first of the other groups arrive and, sure enough, they didn't look up; didn't even seem to consider it. They did, however, have an all out fist fight with the second arriving group,

"Idiots." Artom muttered and, despite herself, Lessa smiled; she fancied that she could take credit for this change of perspective along with the responsibility of Gadons loss. She turned to look at him and wondered, with unashamed narcissim, if in some way she might have helped to save his life sometime in the future when, instead of running in head first, he might take the alternative route and live to see the next fight. The thought pleased her, _this is command, _she rolled the concept in her mind, _this is the reward of all the weight and responsibility; I get to change people, hopefully for the better, I get to make them tougher._ She picked out the shapes of her temporary team in the shadows, _I get to help them survive._

By the time they reached the deadline most of the other teams were down to one or two people; a battle royal of sorts had broken out and only they and one other group had had the sense to stay out of it. They crouched in a dense thicket of bushes on the east side of the pickup zone and, being the only two groups who'd had a reasonable strategy, it seemed fitting that they could see each other when no-one else could. One pointed up to them with a slender arm, the others double took and then grinned, waving a little and making it clear that they weren't going to risk coming after them. In return she nodded and raised a hand, _peace mate, we all just want to see this out to the end, I ain't coming down to get you, _so they stared at each other and pulled faces until the transport arrived. Only when all the others had calmed and gathered by their shuttles did they descend and, Lessa had to admit, she relished the look of surprise on the others faces. Still she couldn't help squirming under the drill sergeants gaze during the shuttle ride; she couldn't read his face in the slightest and the intensity of his stare was making a nervous pain grow in the pit of her stomach. When the shuttle clanked to a stop he motioned for her to stay behind,

"Holm tells me that it was your idea to go into the trees," he said, "and that it was his fault you lost Gadon."

"Ah, no... no, sir," she tried to keep her voice as steady, "I didn't sleep and I thought it might affect my judgement so I put Holm in charge... but it was my idea to go into the trees."

"Well," he drew in a long breath and sighed, "may I suggest in future that you keep a hold of your command so you need not take responsibility for others poor leadership skills."

"Yes sir." She said, staring straight ahead,

"And let me also congratulate you on good thinking." He said it with an air of disbelief, as if the thought of her, the small, soft human who'd never won a hand to hand bout in all her time here having any talents at all was amazing. His mandibles were a little slack, _dumbfounded, huh? _She smiled at him, _well me too, a little. _

"Thank you, sir." She nodded and stepped into the cool air of the hangar as the doors shut behind the last shuttle; time for a day off. One of the only she'd had since getting here, _no duties, no drills... shore leave, I guess? _The idea was strange and, somehow, frightening; with no demands on her time she could do anything... or nothing. She had time to _think._

"Shepard, you got a visitor." The staff sergeant grunted as he passed, "Waiting in the mess hall for you."

She took off at a light jog, progressing into a run as the halls quietened, all the while smiling, _Garrus!_ She slowed in time to slip through the doors and face the mess with a grin, looking for his silhouette, listening for his voice.

"Immy." Kaidan smiled at her and waved, the skin at his eyes crinkling a little, "Good to see you again."


	6. Liar

"Who'd have thought there'd be human cafe's on Palaven." Lessa smiled across the table at Kaidan, masking her disappointment with calm cheer,

"I know," he nodded and laced his fingers together, "you were expecting Garrus, huh?" He didn't sound hurt but the guilt came anyway. She nodded and took a drink,

"But it is good to see you." The smile was genuine and even she was surprised by just how happy she was to see him,

"And you. So two months left?" She nodded and suppressed a snort as he grinned and took what could only be described as a mammoth bite of his steak sandwich, "So... you're RSM sent a _very _favourable report to admiral Hackett, I hear."

"He did?" She snorted, "Guy looks at me like I shat in his toaster every time we meet." Kaidan coughed, choking on his food,

"Do Turians even eat toast?" He gasped, red in the face, thumping his chest as he coughed,

"I don't think so," she laughed and bit her lip.

"Well... now that we've cleared _that_ up," he sighed, wiping a stray tear from his eye, coughing, "How would you like to be the Normandys security officer once you're trainings done?" She dropped a fajita mid bite, brows shooting up. He leaned across the table and wiped some sour cream from her chin with his thumb, "close your mouth, Immy, you'll catch flies."

"My name doesn't have an I in it, Commander." She said absently, he shrugged,

"I've gotten used to that name," he smiled and then, frowned a little, "does it offend you?" She shook her head and laughed before a chill shot through her,

"I'd be taking Ash's old job." The blood and sweat of Virmire was still sticking to her mind and heart: _it was my fault, _she looked away and sighed, rubbing her face._  
_

He sighed,

"I- well... yes." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "But Ash took Jenkins job and, to be honest Immy, I want you on my team and, while I'll understand if you can't take the job... soldiers die." His eyes seemed to bore into her, "and nothing will change that; if you don't take this job then Ash will still be... gone," to his credit, the word seemed hard to say, "and all that will happen is that the Normandy loses a good soldier and you lose a good opportunity to be a spectre in training under a spectre." She tried to push away the tears, drawing in a breath through her nose, "And I will lose the chance to work with a good friend."

"I-" the buzzing in her mind was getting harder and harder to ignore, "I'd love that, Kaidan... I mean, Commander." She nodded, "But I have to get one thing straight."

"Yes?" He put down his knife and fork, and clasped his hands in front of his chin, elbows balancing on the very edge of the table,

"Are you, I mean are we good?" She tried to communicate the multitude of meanings, "My actions on Virmire-" she held up a hand to silence his protests, "contributed to the situation that killed Ash and my actions on Sharjila put us in a shitty place." She pushed back the sensation that she was straying into narcissism and pushed on; better safe than sorry, "And you told me, once, that you had... feelings for me. I don't want any of that to affect things on the ship and I _really_ don't want it to make things tough between us. So," she let silence draw in for a second, "are we good?"

"We're good." The certainty in his voice reassured her, "I don't blame you for Ash and, well, Sharjila was an anomaly." He took a long drink of beer, as if the memory of what they'd seen tasted foul, "As for us." he sighed, "Well, I wont lie, I would have _loved_ to have a chance at us but when I saw how happy you and Garrus are. When I saw how disappointed you were that he wasn't here," this time _he_ silenced her, "I know it wasn't that it was me; its that it wasn't him." He laughed, "Well I couldn't grudge you, him or anyone happiness, Immy."

"Thank you," she felt the smile break on her face, "You know..." she wavered on the edge of confession, "I'm so glad to hear that I just, God, I just worry that Garrus' family wont approve, or that I wont be enough for him. Or that-" he reached across and gripped her hand,

"Stop."

"Stop?" She swallowed,

"Stop worrying. If his family don't fall completely in love with you then they're idiots and if he doesn't stand by you then he's a fool." The light in his eyes was too bright, she knew, but she held his hands like they were a lifeline, "It'll all be ok, Shepard," he nodded earnestly, "and when it is, I want an invite to the wedding."

"Done." She laughed through a tearful smile,

"And I want you to set me up with a really gorgeous bridesmaid." He added with a wink,

"Maybe." She choked out, "Garrus' sister is pretty cute as far as Turians go."

"Well at least we'll have another token human at the family gatherings." He laughed with her, squeezing her sweaty fingers tight, teeth gleaming under the lights. "So," he said with a sniff, "you'll come back to the Normandy?"

"I'd love to." She nodded and squeezed his hands, "Now... lets eat before it gets cold."

Lessa staggered in at 3 a.m, giggling and snorting as she tried to dial Garrus' number.  
"Garrus." She drew his name slowly, running her fingers across her neck,

"Hello there," he laughed, "I see you're getting into the spirit of shore leave." She snorted and clicked the video chat button, "Ah, I can't," he said quietly, "in fact talking is a risk right now, Pallins still about."

"That's a shame." She smirked, "Because I-" her mind flicked through the various options available, opting for a lie, "am butt naked." _If that doesn't tempt him, nothing will. Or he's gay. Please don't let him be gay; that would be awkward._

"Ah," he let out a shaky breath, in the background there was a beep and an echoing announcement; _ that's weird, _she licked her lips and frowned "well that is... really- wait no, no, I don't want to know."

"Why?" She pouted and lay down on the bed,

"Because... ah, I don't know." He laughed, "It's hard to convince your boss that you're working when there's a tent in your trousers."

"I suppose." She mumbled, kicking out of her jeans and shirt,

"You sound tired," his voice, seductive most of the time, was like velvet against her intoxicated ears. Her eyes started to droop as the room spun,

"mmm,"

"Go to sleep, Lessa," his laugh made her shiver, "I'll call you when I get off shift in the morning."

"M'kay."

Her dreams were muddled, at best; in some she ran for her life from the fires of Mindoir and Eden Prime or fought nausea as Sarens face disappeared under her angry fists. In others she squirmed and moaned without reservation; the overall effect, however, was confusion. When a shrill cry woke her, she looked blearily around the spinning room as her stomach lurched, _must be Garrus,_

"Hey," she croaked, "I thought you didn't finish work till morning?"

"Oh Jesus shit Shepard," Joker covered his eyes with a laugh, "Come on girl, I know I'm sexy but I don't wanna lingerie show for it!"

"Ah, fuck, sorry joker," she gasped and pulled her blanket up, "what's up? Other than you, obviously," she laughed, trying to keep the mortification at bay,

"Hah! Yeah, well you're getting a bit on the muscular side for me now, Shepard, I don't wanna break so I'll leave you to Garrus... which is, of course, who you were expecting, huh?" He winked,  
"Shut up." She grunted, "Actually I was just wasted when I fell asleep." It was a half truth; she could live with that.

"I heard you're coming back to the Normandy." he shifted in the pilots chair, brows raised,

"Uh, yeah." She said, nodding, "Yeah, I am."

"Is Garrus?"

"Uh... probably not but he's staying at C-sec so I'm sure you wont have to pine for him too much," she groaned and placed her head in her hands, "God I'm dying."

"Alright, alright," he laughed, "I get the message. I'll grill you later." He snorted and added, "When you're dressed. Later, Shepard." He signed off without ceremony. Her omni-tool light was flickering; seven messages from various Normandy crew members, including Kaidan who was thanking her for a good night and wishing her well...

"Shit." She muttered; she'd spilled her guts to him last night. All her worries about Garrus and his family and... everything, _did I cry? I think I cried at some point, _"So unprofessional." She whispered to herself and rolled onto her side. Still Kaidan hadn't judged her; he'd been very nice about the whole thing, actually.

Her omni-tool woke her again at dinner time,

"Guess where I am." That slow, smooth voice tickled her ears,

"Mm, at home?" She mumbled and rubbed her eye with a scabbed knuckle,

"No." A hint of a laugh,

"In work again? Did I sleep all day."

"Well you might have," he conceded, "but no."

"I don't fucking know then, do I?" She laughed, "Where are you?" There was a knock at the door. _No...,_ "Seriously?" She yelped, grinning when he laughed. She threw back the covers and staggered to the door and threw her arms around her,

"Oh shit!" He gasped, chortling and backing her into the room quickly, "You want your squad mates to see your pants?"

"I don't care!" She threw the words out carelessly between kisses. He squeezed her waist and chuckled breathlessly,

"I missed you too." He ran his hands down to her hips and squeezed her against him tight,

"You're a liar." She prodded his side, hurting her finger on the hard plates,

"No I really-"

"You told me you were working!"

"Ah... yeah, well," he shrugged, "guilty, I guess." He pushed her away and smiled, "Dinner? My treat?"

"Nope." She gripped his shirt and pulled him back towards the bed on her tiptoes. He groaned and lifted her from the ground when she sunk her teeth into the soft skin on his neck; by the time her legs were hooked around his waist he'd stopped protesting about privacy. When her bra slipped off he agreed that, yes, dinner could be had, arguably, at any time of the day.


	7. Dinner at 6

**Sorry this took so long guys- I have been snowed under!**

* * *

"He's hiding something, I can tell." Lessa sighed and watched the grainy image of Kaidan shift and waver,

"How, Shepard?" He splayed his fingers and raised his brows, "How could you know that? He hasn't been home in a long time, it's natural that he'd get caught up in everything that's going on. Maybe you just keep missing each other."

"What if he doesn't want to be with me anymore?" her voice rose in pitch and began to sound whiny, needy even, "What if he's decided he wants to be with an ex-girlfriend. What if he's met someone new? What if he's not and he just doesn't want _me_." Kaidan laughed, throwing back his head and held up a placating hand,

"I'm not laughing at you... but it's so strange to see you like this," he smiled and leaned forward, "what's rattled you, huh? You've always been so certain of your relationship," he nodded, almost to himself, "and yourself."

It was hard to explain, she leaned back in her chair and sighed,

"It's... family is _so_ important to Turians and his is quite conservative." She pursed her lips, "I don't know what would happen if they were dead set against us."

"Garrus wouldn't just drop you, he's got more character than that." Kaidan sounded so certain, so sure of himself, _I hope you're right, _

"You're right." She nodded and forced a smile onto her face, "Of course you're right."

"You know if you started every day with that basic assumption your life would be a lot easier." He smirked then winked at her, "Look I gotta dash but try not to worry and tell Garrus I'm askin' for him when you see him, huh?"

"Sure." She nodded and waved as he signed off. "Sure." She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, ran a hand down her face, "Yeah..." She scrolled down and hit the call button, waiting with her stomach in knots until he answered,

"Hello?" He sounded tired, jet-lagged maybe,

"You sound tired, did I wake you up?" She leaned forward and smiled as he came into view,

"Yeah," his mandibles flared, "but I don't mind. Are you not training today?"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm between shifts."

"Ah," he laughed, "Day on, day off?" She nodded, "It's great, right? How long now?"

"Left?"He nodded,

"Three months and counting, how are your parents?" His mandibles twitched and then tucked toght to his face, "They're great! Really happy, I'm... ah I'm glad to see them. And Solana." He added.

"And your brothers?" She forced the smile; something was wrong.

"Yup," he laughed, "All five of 'em."

"Fuck, seven kids..." she laughed, "is it normal for Turians to have such big families." He shrugged,

"No but it's not uncommon either."

There was a pregnant silence,

"So when do I get to see everyone again?" She tilted her head to the side,

"Ah- well," he seemed flustered, "what about... tonight?"

"You sure about that?" She laughed, "You did tell them?"

"I did." He quipped, "They were surprised." Now there was an understatement, she imagined. _How many shades of shit am I walking into, Garrus?_ "I miss you." He said suddenly, "And I love you... so much."

"I love you too." The smile was genuine but her heart was sinking; he sounded sad and stressed and utterly confused. But he smiled back, "Do you want me to meet you outside at six?"

"Sure, when do you start work again?"

"Four a.m." She nodded, "Then I have our last training exercise the day after."

"Another week long?" He rubbed his neck and she nodded,

"Yeah, well I'll start making myself pretty and I'll see you then." She blew him a kiss and signed off with her heart firmly in her shoes. _Come on, it can't be that bad, _she remembered Kaidans breezy confidence in Garrus' character and devotion, _he's never wrong._ She remembered Virmire, _maybe now and then._ She sat, for a moment, fists clenched and swallowed the sickness again and again and again. She remembered the pain of Sarens talons slicing through her armour and arms, the sudden, leaden guilt when they told her Ash was still there. The way that her mouth had flooded with acrid saliva and her stomach had heaved. That was something even morphine couldn't blot out.

The shower couldn't get rid of it either; the lingering spectre than hung around the edges of her vision. Fuck she hadn't really like the girl, after all she was xenophobic, arrogant and hostile but... she would be alive if Kaidan hadn't chosen her. Lessa swallowed hand hunger head; she would be alive if she hadn't insisted on facing Saren, _I should have listened._ To kill, she realised, was so much easier than to be the reason someone was killed. She dressed too early and sat, in queasy silence, on her bed while the hours trickled away. And then it was time.

Garrus was waiting for her, _punctual as always, _and when she reached him he hugged her close,

"Ready?" He rubbed her back and waist with both hands and she leaned into him,

"As I'll ever be." She slid into the passenger side of the car and rubbed her hands together, twisting them as they set off, "So... be honest, how did they take it?"

"They," he looked into the rear view mirror and paused, "They were... shocked but they agreed that it was best they spend some time with you before they make up their minds. My father seemed pretty ok with it to be honest," he smiled at her,

"And your mum?" His face fell,

"She was disappointed that there's no chance of biological grandchildren," he laughed but it sounded forced, "she'll come around." He reached over and squeezed her knee, careful not to rip her tights with his talons, "You look fantastic, by the way," he practically purred, "that skirt looks great on you."

"Well I was told it suits my waist..." she trailed off and gave him a pointed look,

"It does." He jumped on the hint immediately, "It _really_ does. Really." His eyes flicked to her legs over and over again,

"Eyes on the road."

"That's just not fair... you dangle yourself in front of me and I have to ignore you now?"

"No you just have to not crash until we get to your parents." She laughed, feeling the dread lift a little,

"Can I stare then?"

"Yes."

"Can I stare at red lights?" He was starting to chuckle as they pulled up to just one such set of lights,

"Yes." She snorted, when they stopped he turned to her,

"Fancy stopping at a hotel before we get there?"

"No!" She yelped and slapped his arm, "Garrus, God! Watch the lights!" He laughed and turned back to the road,

"It was worth a shot."

"I'm sure it was." She checked her reflection, smoothing her hair,

"Can we at least 'make-out' a little? Is that the right phrase?"

"And turn up at the house of eight people who can smell the evidence afterwards, hell no," she shook her head,

"After?"

"Fine."

They pulled into the driveway in silence, both grinning like idiots. When he got out he motioned for her to stay where she was and crossed to her side, opening her door,

"Lets go." She took his hand and let him lead her to the door which, for all its beauty was starting to look like a hell portal.


End file.
